


Last Words

by kingwellsjaha



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: (or at least attempting to be canon compilant), Canon Compliant, Gen, complicated mother/son relationship, hvitserk hair appreciation, kind of character study, let's explore what the show doesn't give a shit about, set in 4.12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 13:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20064808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingwellsjaha/pseuds/kingwellsjaha
Summary: Hvitserk searches for something to say as his mother braids his hair for the very last time before his journey to the Mediterranean, but words do not come easy.aka boyhowdy do i have feelings about Hvitserk’s and Aslaug’s relationship.





	Last Words

**Author's Note:**

> alright, we're apparently doing this. i want to to preface this by saying this is unbeta-ed, i'm not a Native English speaker and it sometimes shows.  
also this has not been written from a very historical angle, i bet i messed some things up, but you know as does the show so it is whatever, but if you are into historical accuracy, this is more an attempt in psychology more or less.

They are in her chambers. He sits on the floor leaning against the bed as she makes his hair.

It’s their last time. Tomorrow he will leave with Björn. And afterwards, if the Gods will, he will probably be a little too old to let his mother do his hair. He’s already too old, but old habits die hard.

And there is something comforting in the way her hands gently move through his hair. He still sometimes catches himself leaning back into her touch. Letting the soft fingers massage his scalp just as they had done when he had been a child.

Braiding hair has always been their time. Not Ivar’s, who has kept his hair short from the age of eleven onward, or Ubbe who keeps it in the style of their father for an inexplicable reason Hvitserk does not understand, or Sigurd, who rather does his hair on his own.

* * *

One day, when he had been around the age of thirteen, she had showed him all her tricks. It had been a rainy day and he was slightly sick. They had gone through all different braids and styles from the afternoon until it was dark.

He still remembers the way her smile had widened as she had touched his hair, rubbing it between her fingers.

“You have the hair of your grandfather,” she had explained to him, “my hair.”

Slowly she had started to braid it. Her hands are always so quick and diligent. He never tells her, but he always secretly admires it. 

“It’s very soft, but resilient and strong, rarely breaks,” she smiled at that. Her eyes were on the braid she had created, “which means you can grow it very long.”

Her eyes shot to his and they smiled at each other and Hvitserk could not help, but feel proud of himself, of his mother and his grandfather.

Only later he began to wonder how his mother knows that it's his grandfather’s hair. Afterall she has never met him.

* * *

They do not talk a lot while she braids his hair. Sometimes she explains to him what she’s doing, but he knows most of her tricks by now.

Sometimes he turns and makes a suggestion. They go back and forth discussing the options until they come to a conclusion.

But usually they do not talk.

It’s better that way. What would they be able to talk about?

About Kattegat and politics? He isn’t too interested in that. Sometimes merchants from far off come to Kattegat and his mother relinquishes in inviting them into the hall. She finds them delightful. Hvitserk thinks of them as amusing distractions. Their strange clothes and customs make him think of the places they come from, urge him to visit them someday himself. But otherwise he doesn’t care much for them or politics

About the estate and housekeeping? He knows nothing about it and if he’s honest hearing his mother talk about it to the thralls is sleep inducing enough.

About his brothers? No. His brothers do not belong here in the sparse time he has her for himself. No talk of Ivar and his problems or Sigurd’s temper. In these few moments they do not exist. There’s only him and her.

The things he’s interested in, she cares little about. Yes, she likes to hear of his progress when it comes to sword fighting, but it usually turns into a competition against his brothers, which is the reason he avoids it best he can. In his opinion, he is the most capable of the four. They probably all think that, at least Ubbe does, but Hvitserk doesn’t mean capable in the way that he is simply better than them. He is not.

Ubbe is a better archer than him that is for certain. Sigurd is with the sword as good as him and Ivar in his fervor does his best to top all of them. He’s not bad for someone who cannot move easily in a fight.

But it’s not his skills that make him more capable in his opinion. If it comes to skills they are all overshadowed by Björn anyway. It’s his ability to access his opponent. Ubbe in his zeal as the oldest brother believes he can take the whole world. Sigurd is easy to anger and gets careless. Only Ivar seems to think as much about his opponents as Hvitserk does.

But he has no energy to explain that to his mother. She would probably only laugh and not believe him anyway.

He will not discuss women with her. She’s way too eager on finding wives for all of them and he will not give her any ideas.

And it’s better that she doesn’t know about all the adventures Ubbe and he are having or else she would be worried or more likely even displeased.

So silence it is. It always has been. Comfortable silence though in which he can let his mind roam free.

* * *

But today he wants to say something. He is not sure what exactly, but he wants to because when he comes back everything will be different or so he hopes.

Ubbe might be even married and hopefully Sigurd and Ivar will have grown enough to not fight constantly.

He will hopefully be different too, a grown man not only in name but experience as well. Maybe he will find himself a woman on this raid. It’s unlikely. He isn’t searching and his mother would be displeased with a match made with no political benefits, but maybe he will. He doesn’t know what the Gods have planned for him, but he is ready to follow their lead.

This is why he has to say something now before he leaves, before he returns a changed man. He has to say it now when it still matters.

But the words don’t come out, get caught in his throat.

He does not know what to say which will not turn into bile.

_ Do you love me? _

_ Do you care for me? _

_ Why is it that you always ever care for Ivar? Every word you say is about Ivar! Although he is always causing trouble. Although him and Sigurd are always fighting. You pay them so much attention when they are fighting, while I’m never starting a fight. I’m good. I have never caused you much trouble. All the trouble I have ever created I have always kept far away from you. _

_ Why don’t you see that? Why don’t you see me? You never see me. Only when we’re alone and even then. _

He has to stop these thoughts. They sound too much like the thoughts of a child, not the thoughts of a man, not the thoughts of someone who is ready to conquer the world. He swallows his words and suffers their bitter aftertaste.

* * *

When he comes back from his journey, he hopes these thoughts will not bother him any longer. He will be different.

She will be different. She will greet him with a smile on his return. Ivar and Sigurd will have to be silent and listen as he tells them about his adventures. But it will not matter too much to him.

Her smile will not make him too happy because he has found happiness already somewhere else.

She will reach out her hand after the pleasantries are done and it has gotten dark trying to touch his hair.

‘Your hair has gotten a little messy during the journey, Hvitserk, let me do it for you.’

And he will lean away from her touch with a smile and answer that he does not need her hands any longer. His tone will be nice and pleasant. There will be no malice. Everything will be fine. He is certain.

He just needs to leave. He should’ve left sooner.

* * *

Maybe his mother would believe him, if he told her that he is the most capable warrior of her sons. After all she has no qualms of letting him join Björn on this trip.

And he hopes, she has no qualms of him leaving because she knows he is capable not because she doesn’t care. No, she knows he will be victorious and that’s why she doesn’t worry. That’s why she had smiled when he had told her without any fear in her eyes.

She is proud of him. He is certain.

But she worries about Ivar all the time. He has never seen her not worried about him and maybe he had wanted her to look just a little worried when he had told her. Maybe he had wanted her brows to furrow a little bit. Not much, not as much as they furrow for Ivar.

He does not want her tears. He just wants a sign.

* * *

When she is finished, he still doesn’t know what to say. The little time they had is gone now and it will never come back.

He’s a little disappointed in himself, but hides it well as he turns to her so that she can marvel at her work.

Her smile is wide and she presses her hands together clearly happy with her results.

It’s easy for him to smile back. He makes a small turn making her laugh and he joins in trying to laugh the sadness out of him.

There is again a moment of silence as he stops to face her. She has to look up to him now, quite different from when he was younger. Her eyes are looking at him expectantly and he realizes that she is waiting for his verdict.

He touches his braids feels the soft delicate woven plaits.

“It’s beautiful,” he states, “I like it.”

Her smile turns more self satisfied. He likes it. Growing up his mother has rarely looked this happy, truly happy. Not just the happiness she shows in the hall or when she is conversing with merchants.

He wants to say something now, nothing of malice, just something, just some last words to commemorate their last moment together.

His hand continues to stroke over the plaits.

“How do you know,” he finally asks. The question surprises himself.

His mother furrows his brows at him.

“About the hair, that it’s grandfathers.”

He has never asked her until now, he realizes. He doesn’t even know why. It’s such a harmless question.

She smiles again and steps closer.

“Because they told me, when I was growing up,” her hands fall onto his chest searching for dirt to pick away, “they told me I had my mother’s eyes and my father’s hair.”

She looks up into his eyes. Her hands move from his chest to his cheek pressing against it so gently. It’s a gesture reserved for a child, but her eyes are so soft and her hand so warm, and warmth spreads through his chest, so he lets her continue.

“You have his eyes,” she states and her smile almost looks sad for a moment.

Hvitserk doesn’t know what it means. He can just raise his eyebrows in surprise. He has always wondered a little bit, all his brothers have blue eyes piercing like mother’s and father’s except him. Her other hand moves to his other cheek and she squeezes his face lightly.

“They told me he had green eyes.” She’s sad now and he regrets a little bit that he has asked, but the sadness is gone as soon as it has appeared. Her smile only a little cold.

“My handsome boy-” she shakes her head and lets go of his face, “not boy, man. Are you ready?”

He is not quite sure to what she is referring to. Is he ready for the journey? For the banquet? But he nods because he is ready regardless. He has to be ready. Her smile grows wide one final time, before she turns away.

He cannot help but watches her long elegant figure for a moment, clad in only the finest clothes as she rearranges her jewellery. Before he finally pulls himself together and makes his way outside to find Ubbe.

* * *

Maybe he had wanted for her to fight a little, when she had heard that he was going to leave with Björn, just a little. For once the attention would’ve been fully on him as his brothers turned to mere spectators, but she never did.

She simply smiled and nodded going on about how joining Björn would just be the right thing for him.

Maybe he had been more than a little disappointed.

* * *

_ Do you care mother? _

_ I have your father’s eyes and hair. _

_ I have never caused you any harm. _

_ I love you. Do you care? _

**Author's Note:**

> i actually have a very compelling reason as to why Aslaug reacted candidly when Hvitserk told her he would go with Björn. it was because Björn had informed her about Hvitserk's decision a week before that, just after Hvitserk had asked him if he could join and so she had a whole week to go through all stages of grief before he officially told her.
> 
> of course she also reacted positively because it is the right step in her eyes for a young man like him and a normal thing to do in their society. but don't think it wasn't a tough pill to swallow. she just hid her sorrow because she thought that would make it easier for him. (oh yeah, i have this headcanon to make what i write even more sad)
> 
> anyway thoughts? complaints? yell them at me. i just have a lot opinions about these two for no apparent reason.  
my vikings sideblog is volvaaslaug


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